


Skin and Bones

by RealWinchesterGirl95



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Absent Parent, Angst, Anorexia, Anxiety, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, OC death, Panic Attacks, Suicide, possible Overdosing, self abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealWinchesterGirl95/pseuds/RealWinchesterGirl95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eating disorders. The ones that don't kill you just make you wish you were dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I hope you all like this. Please leave comments of what you would like to see in future chapters!

"Class, this is Harlow Mark. She is new to Beacon Hills and I expect you all to be warm and welcoming." I waited patiently for the principle of my new high school to finish introducing me. He turned to me and gave me a head nod, which I thought was odd and he walked out. I was left standing at the front of the classroom. I gave a small, shy wave to the class.

"Well, Harlow. It's nice to meet you, however, class has already begun so please take a seat." He gestured to the only empty seat in the class room. "Stiles," the kid next to me spastically looked up to the teacher, the cap from his highlighter was in his mouth. He puffed up his cheeks and blew out the cap.

"Yeah, coach?"

"Ugh, Stiles. Your very existence annoys me. But, catch up the new girl." I thought that he was totally ignoring me but after a couple minutes of frantic writing and highlighting in his textbook and on post-it-notes and sticking those to the pages he reached over and stole my textbook off my desk before replacing it with his own a few seconds later. I mouthed a 'thanks' to him and started to attempt to read his scribble. At first I didn't understand any of it, it just looked like a bunch of crazy to my. It was just a bunch of meaningless words until I saw one of the smaller post-it's and in large letters it said 'ECONOMICS'. I smiled to myself. When the bell finally rung I closed his textbooks and stood to give it back.

"Nah, keep it for the weekend." He offered.

"Thanks." I swung my bag over my shoulder and slipped his book inside.

"Just make sure you bring it back next class. So, where's your next class?" I pulled the slip of paper schedule out of my bag and handed it to him.

"Do we have any other classes together?" I patiently waited for him to look over my schedule.

"I have most of the same classes but not the same schedule. Sorry." He Apologized, handing the folded up paper back to me. "So your next class is going to be straight down the hall and then make the right and it's should be the first door on your... Uhhh..." He was pointing his finger down in the direction he was telling me to go and squinted his eyes while tilting his head from side to side. "Left." He finally declared.

"Thanks. And uh... thanks for the notes too." I made my way down the hall and to my next class. Before I turned the corner I looked back at Stiles who was still standing there. He waved. 

When the bell rung for lunch I asked my teacher for directions to the library. I had only been to three classes and already the pile of catch-up work I had to do was a mile high. When I finally reached the library, after getting lost twice, I opened the door and let a couple other students in ahead of me when I heard my name being called.

"Hey! Hey, Harlow! Wait up!" I turned to see a spastic Stiles weaving through the crowd of students that filled the hallway. When he finally reached me I let go of the door handle and backed away, making room for other students to pass by and enter the library.

"Are you ADHD? Because I have a ton of friends back home who have ADHD and you guys kinda act the same." He looked at me a little bewildered for a few seconds.

"Uhh... yeah. Actually I do. Anyways, you are coming to lunch with me and my friends. They tend to want to meet the new kids." I stared at him for a moment. I was planning on spending as many lunches as possible in the library, avoiding the cafeteria as much as possible.

"Actually, I have a ton of catch-up work that I need to get started. So I was planning on working through lunch." I turned and started making my way through the threshold of the library when Stiles grabbed my elbow and dragged me out. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Tell you what, if you come to lunch with my friends and me then I'll drive you home and on our way we can stop at my house and I can give you all the notes you need and you can just copy them. How does that sound?" I contemplated this for a few seconds.

"That sounds like a bribe," I commented, testing the waters. He shrugged and bobbed his head around a few times.

"It may be a bribe. So what do you say?" Without replying to him I stalked off in the direction I was hoping was the cafeteria.

"Just so you know, I'm only doing this for the notes." I told him.

"Just so you know, I'm only doing this to make sure you're human." I looked at him like he was crazy. Of course I'm human. What else would I be? I followed him to a table with a couple other guys and a few girls. "Harlow this is Kira, Malia, Scott, Lydia and Liam. Guys this is Harlow, the new girl I was telling you about." 

"Harlow, that's an interesting name." Lydia was the first to speak. "I like your socks." She smiled at me. My socks cam up over my knee and covered half my thigh. The end of my dress a few inches above that.

"I was named after my grandfather." The group tried and failed to hide their smirk.

"So," Stiles gestured for me to take the seat between him and Scott. "where are you from?" Everyone started pulling out their lunches from their bags.

"Uh, Texas. My moms job transferred her here." I pulled out some math homework, the only class Stiles and I weren't in the same level, and started to work on it. 

"Where's your lunch?" Stiles nudged my arm with his elbow and gestured to the paper I was working on.

"First day nerves. I can never eat with a nervous stomach." I lied smoothly, clutching my pen tightly in my hand. Stiles looked over my shoulder at Scott who was shaking his head.

"Tell you what, if you eat half my sandwich I won't blackmail you over the notes." I started chewing on the end of my pen, thinking this over.

"What is that, Turkey?" Stiles nodded. "Well no can do buddy. I'm a vegetarian." I saw him once again look over my shoulder at Scott and I could only assume he was shaking his head again, like last time. Then he pulled out a zip-lock bag of carrots and placed them in front of me.

"Here, eat these." I was tempted to tell him that I have a carrot allergy but decided against it when he gave me a near death glare. 

"Okaayyy." I drawled out. If there are 70 calories in one cup then there are proximity about 63 calories in the bag so if I ate half the bag that would mean it would come to about 32 calories. But if I ate the whole bag and I purged then Stiles would be happy and leave me alone and I would be at zero for the day. Maybe if I just slowly munch on them till the bell rings then he'll leave me alone about it. "Are these organic?" I picked up a carrot and eyed it carefully. After a few seconds I realized that the whole group had gone quiet. I looked up to find everyone staring at me.

"Um, no? We don't really do a whole lot of organic's in Beacon Hills." I nodded before putting the carrot halfway in my mouth and biting it in half. "Did you do a lot of organic's in Texas?"

"Yeah, I mentioned earlier that a lot of my friends have ADHD and something that helps with that is organic food so we all decided to go organic and convince our parents too." After I had made sure to carefully chew the carrot thirty-five times and swallowed I popped the other half in my mouth. This was going to be a long lunch.

Stiles had told me to meet him by his jeep after school, which is exactly where I waited. For ten minuted before he finally showed up.

"Hey, sorry I had to talk to Scott about something. You ready?" He pulled my door open and gestured for me to get in. We had been driving for five minutes when he finally spoke.

"So, a vegetarian." I nodded. "How hard is that?" I didn't even have to give the answer any thought.

"Not hard at all. Meat is disgusting. It's not because I don't want it it's because I hate the taste of meat." Which wasn't a lie. I do hate the taste. "It makes me feel like vomiting."

"But I mean it's got to be hard," he looked over at me for a second.

"Watch the road."

"So many great meals are made with meat. Some don't even taste like meat. And what, you don't eat those either?" I was beginning to feel like I was being interrogated.

"Well, Stiles, there's a lot of foods that I don't like."

"Is that why you're so skinny? Because you don't like a lot of foods?"

"I'm just a picky eater." I defended.

"A picky eater that doesn't eat?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. Can you just keep you're eyes on the road, please?" He kept looking over at me and I didn't like it.

"Just admit what you can't admit to anyone else." this conversation was making me dizzy. Or maybe I was the lack of food. The last time I had eaten mom and I were just leaving Texas. The funny thing is I can go days without food if I'm not thinking about it. But when people keep bringing it up it's like my brain realizes that it's starved and I can't help but feel it.

"And what's that?" My chest was starting to feel tight, my anxiety climbing. I could feel it. The panic attack building in my chest. I kept chanting in my head 'Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.'

"Har, answer me this. Do you have an eating disorder?" the air in the car got tense. And that's when it hit me.

"Pull over." I told him. My brain pleading with him.

"Harlow, we're like two minutes from my house."

"Pull... over." my breathing was coming out in gasps. The tightness in my chest was becoming too much and I couldn't help but feel trapped. Stiles, realizing what was happening, pulled over and slammed on he breaks. I yanked on the handle and threw myself into the grass. Staying on my hands and knees. Stiles appeared at my side, he was saying something but the pounding if my heart was so loud and I was so dizzy that I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. After a moment my arms got too weak to hold myself up. I laid down on my side in the grass, which was still damp from the morning rain. It was cool on my feverish cheek. 

Out of nowhere Stiles' face came into view. He was laying on his side in the grass too. He was still talking but I was even harder now than before to hear him. "Harlow!" He called now, louder than before. "Hold your breath, I know it sounds stupid but it'll help." I closed my eyes and did my best to hold my breath. After a couple attempts at holding my breath I finally got it. 

I let out the breath that I had been holding in a and rolled onto my back, breathing heavily. "Sorry." I breathed. My eyelids were becoming heavy much like they did after every panic attack. I knew it would be only a matter of time before I fell asleep.

"Hey, hey. No, don't apologize. And definitely don't fall asleep on the side of the road." He got to his knees and crouched over me and put his hands under my arms, lifting me up. "Let's get back in the jeep." He lifted me into the jeep and buckled me in before closing my door. By the time he walked around the jeep and got in I was already asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on." I whispered to myself. I was leaning over the toilet with my fingers down my throat, gagging. Mom had made pasta for dinner and I ate a whole portions worth. Too much food, my brain screamed at me. I shoved my fingers back down and gagged again. This time pasta started to come up but too much pasta was forcing itself out and I started choking on it, gagging on the piece of pasta still in my throat till it came up and I spit it out. I breathed hard for a few seconds before starting the process all over again.

When I was finally done, I reached up and flushed the toilet before leaning over and starting the shower. It was Sunday night and I was totally drained. I didn't have energy for school the next day. However, I did managed to get almost all my catch-up work done. And the little I did have left I could do in the library at lunch tomorrow.

I used the last of the strength I had left to undress and drag myself into the tub and I sat there for a while, gaining my strength back, under the spray of water. I realized too late that I hadn't taken my makeup off and my eyes started burning from the running mascara. I squeezed my eyes shut and did my best to keep it out of my eyes while I reached under the shower curtain and fumbled around for my towel that I left lying on the floor. I turned around so that the spray of water only hit my back and pulled the edge of the towel into the shower and rubbed my eyes. I pulled the pink towel away from my eyes and saw two big black smears on it. 

I put the towel back on the floor and quickly washed my hair and shaved before jumping out and wrapping myself in the same pink towel. I decided to wash my face to get the remainder of the makeup off and when I wiped the fogged up mirror I was met with blood shot eyes. "Shit." It wasn't the kind of blood shot that would go away over night. It was the kind that lasted for a few days. I dropped my towel and examined my body. Even though my collar bones and my rib cage were visible and my hip bones jutted out, all I could see was fat. Fat. Fat. FAT. I stepped on the scale. 109.7. Fuck.

'You no good piece of shit, how do you expect anyone to ever love you if you're just a pile of fat!?' My brain was screaming at me. I wanted to cry. I was tempted to pick up the plotted plant in the corner of the bathroom and crash it into the mirror, shattering it. 

Deciding that there was nothing I could do about it I secured my towel tightly around my fat body before opening the bathroom door and being blasted with cold air. I shivered. I plopped down on my bed, still only in my towel, thinking about Friday.

I woke up groggy and disoriented. Looking around I didn't recognize where I was, I didn't recognize anything. I was lying on a bed that I had never seen before. I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 6:04. Not knowing what else to do I stood up and made my way into the hall. I had no idea where I was going so I just continued down the hall till I came to the stairs. 

"Hey." I looked up at Stiles, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. "I was just about to go get pizza with the gang. You wanna go?" I knew it was a test but I didn't care. I mean I had just woken up in his bed for Christ sake! 

"Actually, it's kinda late. My mom will be wondering where I am. So I need to get home." He stared at me for a while before nodding his head up and down in a weird bouncy motion.

"Okay. Okay, you can keep lying to me but you can't lie to yourself now can you." Death eyes were being exchanged.

"I have dinner with my mom in an hour." I lied smoothly. There was a few heart beats of silence before he walked to the front door and opening it, motioning for me to go through it. The Jeep came to a complete stop in my drive way but before I could open the door Stiles finally spoke.

"Aft-after my mom died, I used to get panic attacks all the time." 

And that was it. I opened my door, got out and walked into my empty house. My mom had taken up the available Dean of Medicine position. Meaning I am home alone. A lot. But Sunday evenings is her day off. Hence the pasta dinner. 

Beep beep beep beep

"Ugh." I groaned as I rolled over to turn my alarm off. When a cool breeze hit my ass I realized that I never put my pjs on and slept naked. I smirked to myself, finding the situation funny. Opening my closet I realized that I was so busy doing catch-up work that I didn't do any laundry. After a couple minutes of just standing in front of my closet I turned to check the time. School started in half an hour.

Quickly I pulled out my last pair of clean leggings and an old sweater of my dads and some boots. Throwing my curly hair up in a messy ponytail I grabbed my makeup bag and car keys before running into the living room. I grabbed a couple of water bottles from the kitchen and my school bag off the counter before running out to my car. I now had twelve minutes to get to school.

The bell rang right as I ran into Coaches class. I plopped down into my desk and dropped my bag onto the floor and pulled Stiles' textbook out. 

"Here." I held out the text book to him. He took it and replaced it with mine but didn't say anything. He did a double take at my face and slid back in his chair, scoffing. And that's when I remembered. Broken blood vessels. I hadn't had time to do my makeup yet and concealed it and I knew that you would be able to see them. Clear as day. I slipped my makeup bag out of my bag and got all the way through my makeup before Coach yelled at me to put it away and focus on the class work. I smiled back.

"So you're pissed at me?" I whispered. We were doing partner work and for some reason Coach was making Stiles my class buddy. He didn't say anything. "Stiles! Come on man, you can't be mad at me. I didn't do anything."

"Why can't you just admit you have a problem!?" He exclaimed, loudly. The whole class stopped the work they were doing at looked over at us.

"H-he's referring to the-uh-the problems." I picked up the worksheet we were working on. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a problem." My voice lower.

"Oh yeah?" He leaned forward so that we were only about a foot apart. "How about that panic attack? Huh? You wanna tell me about that? Because that's not normal."

"I forgot to take my anxiety medication, okay?" I looked back down at my worksheet and started to copy text from the text book straight to the paper. It wasn't a lie. I had forgotten it yesterday. But I mean, I forget to take it most days.

"Anxiety medication." He tapped his pen on his desk. "You must be on pretty high doses of the stuff huh?" I nodded as if to say 'duh'. "Well, did you take them today?"

"Ah shit." I threw my head back, looking at the ceiling. I knew I was forgetting something this morning but I just couldn't put my finger on it. The bell rang then and we parted ways.

By lunch time I really didn't feel like human interaction and made my mind up to skip the rest of my classes. As I walked out of the school building I saw Stiles and his group of friends making their way to their cars too. What was this, annual skip day? 

"Har-Harlow!" I was just about to get into my car when Stiles started calling for me. "Hey, so. We," he pointed to his group of friends, "are going to the diner for lunch. Wanna come?"

"Actually I was just going to go home." 

"Well that sounds boring. Come with us." He held the top of my door so I couldn't close it.

"I can't. I have to go home. I have to take my meds." It wasn't a total lie. I did have to take them but I wasn't going to tell him that I wasn't going to take them and that I was actually going home to look at proana pictures on Tumblr. "Anyways, my social skills aren't up to par right now so..."

"Okay, right, alright. But just remember while you're sitting in your room doing homework and avoiding this," he gestured to my body, "thing you're doing to yourself. Remember," he lowered himself to whisper to me, "people care." 

"Alright. Thanks, Dr. Phil. I'll see ya tomorrow." 

Since we had moved to Beacon Hills my mom had been trying to convince me to volunteer at the hospital. Since I had been using my lunch time to do my homework by Wednesday I was caught up and totally bored. I rolled over on my bed and looked at the clock. 

3:31 p.m.

I picked up my phone and speed dialed my moms office. "Hey, honey. Is everything okay?" My mom greeted me, recognizing my cell number.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was just wondering if the pediatrics ward needs a volunteer worker tonight? I finished my homework and have nothing else to do."

"Oh darling this is wonderful!" My mom exclaimed. She was alway so proper when she was at work. "Of course! How soon will you be here?" I hopped up from my bed and grabbed my bag and car keys.

"I'm leaving right now. I'll be there in ten."

"Okay, when you get here I'll have the head nurse on the pediatric floor, Mrs. McCall, waiting for you." We said our goodbyes and hung up and before I knew it I was being greeted by a pretty, dark haired, lady.

"Harlow?" She had a clipboard clutched to her chest like you see in all those doctor tv shows. Not that I should have expected anything else. I practically grew up in hospitals all across Texas.

"Hi, Mrs. McCall. What can I do?" She carefully eyed me for a few seconds and made a face like realization had just hit her before she said,

"Come with me and I'll get you set up." 

By the time 9:00 rolled around I was sitting on the floor in the common room playing Go-Fish with a little girl named Morgan. 

"Do you have any twos?" Her six year old voice asked.

"Go fish." She drew from the deck and her eyes lit up and she got excited. She grabbed a card from her hand and put both that card and the new card down revealing two twos.

Half way through the game I had laid down on my stomach to be more comfortable. "Harlow, what are you still doing here?" Mrs. McCall asked coming around the corner. 

"Playing Go-Fish with Morgan." I answered, looking up.

"The other volunteers left two hours ago." She looked at me like she was expecting me to say something but I simply just shrugged. "Is your mom working late tonight?"

"Yup." I looked back at my hand of cards. "Got and queens?" I turned my attention back to The game.

"Nuh huh." Morgan shook her head and loose golden blonde curls fell into her face and she used a pudgy hand to tuck them behind her ear. "Fours?" I pulled three fours from my deck and handed them to her.

"Well, I'm heading home to have dinner with my son. How about you come have dinner with us?" The thing about lying when you have an eating disorder is that it becomes natural and becomes like word vomit. Most the time I don't even realize that is happening till it's too late.

"I made dinner before I came so that I'd have something when I get back. But thanks."

"Okay." She turned and walked away and I turned back to my game. 

Later that night I was laying in bed, wide awake, waiting to hear the lock on the front door unlock, signaling my moms return. By 12:09 she had yet to return and I couldn't sleep. Even when I was little my nanny would sit up with me till my mom got home and then I would pretend that I was asleep when she came into my room to check on me.

I huffed out a sigh and got up from my bed and walked into the kitchen to grab another bottle of water. I don't allow myself to look at food anymore because if I did I would eat everything. I wouldn't be able to stop. I would stuff my face till eventually my stomach tore open and my guts and half chewed food lay on the kitchen floor, next to my body. 

The soft pitter-patter of my feet on the hardwood floors was the only sound in the house as I made my way back to my room. This time when I got to my room I shut my door and I saw a note that my mom left on the mirror hanging on the back of the door. The note read Ballet class tomorrow at 3:30 and the address was listed below. I had been in ballet since I was a toddler and I had such a strong love hate relationship with it. 

Madam Pierre was always telling me how beautiful I moved but how could someone so fat and disgusting be beautiful? But I would smile and say 'thank you' and acted like I had buckets and buckets of self confidence. My mom had promised me that she would find a place for me to dance when we moved here but I thought that she would forget. She didn't. 

I walked to the corner of my room where the last of my unpacked boxes were and pulled the one marked 'ballet' out and set it in the middle of my desk and pulled out my tights and leotard. I put them in my dance bag and put my dance bag next to my school bag. I would be going there straight there after school and wouldn't have time to come back for it. 

I stripped off my dirty cloths and put them I the full hamper before taking the hamper and putting the cloths in the wash. I slipped on one of my dad's old tee shirts and crawled into bed, begging sleep to come. Tomorrow is a new day.


	3. Chapter 3

In health class you learn thing and sometimes you don't. Sometimes they teach you stuff that you already know. Like today I didn't learn that 95% of individuals suffering from an eating disorder are between the ages of 12 and 25. And that more than 50% of teenage girls and nearly 33% of teenage boys admit to using unhealthy methods to control their weight. And the last thing I didn't learn.

Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any illness.

Dying hasn't ever been something that scares me, in fact, the idea is welcoming. I was once again sitting in Finstocks room for health class. He had a unique way of teaching the class which involved screaming at us not to do drug, drink alcohol or have sex till we are in our mid thirties. Today was different though, no yelling. It was kind of uncomfortable being in a class where he wasn't yelling and screaming at us and I swear every few minutes he would giving me these side ways glances that I wasn't supposed to notice. So when the bell finally rung I was quite relieved and made a B-line for the door and headed straight for my locker.

"Knock it off, Stiles." I mumbled. I had only gotten two hours of sleep and school was especially brutal, ballet was killing me and Stiles was driving me crazy.

"Come on, Harlow. Just come out with the group. It won't be torturous, I swear! Everyone will behave." Stiles promised. I stopped and ran my hand through my hair. I had left it down today and it was kinda a mess.

"I already have plans." I told him, matter-of-fact. He scoffed and rolled his head a little, clearly annoyed.

"Right. Plans. Okay, and what would those be?" He shoved his hands in his pocket and leaned back on the lockers next to mine.

"Ballet." He looked taken aback for a moment before blinking a few times before remembering how to speak.

"Ballet?"

"Yeah, you know. Leotards and tutus and lots of twirling girls." I shoved everything into my locker and pulled out my history text book. "And before you ask, I can't come to lunch today, I have a test next period and I didn't really get to study and no offense to your friends but they aren't exactly quiet."

"You dance?" I looked up at him.

"Are you really still on that? That was like a whole minute ago. But yeah, I've been dancing since I was a toddler." I started walking down the hall towards the back doors before Stiles stopped me.

"Where you going? Library's that way." He pointed behind us, in the opposite direction. I looked at the crowd of people filing into the library and squinted.

"Yeah well, it's more quiet on the lacrosse bleachers than in a library with three dozen kids working on group projects." He nodded his head and we said our goodbyes, parting ways.

It had been three weeks since I started ballet and I couldn't decided if I loved it or hated it. I love dancing. I feel free when I dance. But I hate the mirrors. My new teacher was harder than any of my last ones and I hated it, she's always ridiculing the girls bodies and judging them. 'If you wish to be my muse than you must be perfect, you girls aren't perfect. You MUST be perfect!'. The studio was your average ballet studio. Walls and walls of mirrors, Barr's, skinny girls sweating in their pointe shoes and leotards. It even had the wall where the studio side was a mirror but the waiting rooms side was a window. It made me feel uncomfortable to know that people we're watching me dance, when I'm most vulnerable, and I wouldn't see their reactions.

The thing that bothered me most about everything was that she never told me how bad I look in a leotard or how awful I am like she did with the other girls. Which means that she didn't care. That I'm a lost cause. That I'm not worth her time, I'm not worth correcting.

After dozens of balançoire's, emboité's, entrechat's, plié's and soubresaut's class was over. Ballet was Monday through Friday and depending on what day it is tells you what position you work in.

Monday = First

Tuesday = Second

Wednesday = Third

Thursday = Fourth

Friday = Fifth

We spend half the class working on Barr and the other half doing floor work and whatever routine the instructor decides to yell out to us. My feet were getting back to looking ugly and were now almost always bloody and calloused from dancing pointe so much and the other day I forgot my slippers and Madam is weird about not letting us wear pointe shoes at the Barr so I had to dance barefoot at the Barr, which means that the skin on the bottom of my feet are more rough than normal.

The music stopped abruptly and Madam called for us to cool down and that class was over but before she left she informed us that auditions for Clara were next week and that if we are planning on auditioning that we had a lot of work to do before we even came close to being ready for the audition let alone the actual performance. The thing about auditions here is that you have to partake in them because it's such a small town that there really aren't enough students at the dance studio to not partake in the production.

Only one other girl from ballet was from my school and most of them went to the girls private school and the couple of guys that were in the class went to the high school in the next town over. I plopped down on the floor and started taking off my pointe shoes and started packing up my stuff. When I stood up and took my first step I slipped and crashed down on my knees.

"Damn it." I muttered. One of the blisters had busted and was oozing blood all over the floor. "You've got to be kidding me." I reached into my bag and pulled out the hand towel I had and started wiping up the blood.

"Busted bluster?" A girl, Joan, asked. "I get those. Bloody." She reached into her bag and pulled a few things out of her bag while I stayed on my hands and knees scrubbing the blood off the floor. "Don't freak." She said. At first I didn't know what she was taking about but after a second she started applying ointment and a bandage to the hole on my toe while I cleaned the floor. If we weren't out of the studio within five minutes of class ending you get the lights shut off on you.

"Thanks." It felt awkward letting someone else take care of something even as little as a bloody toe but I didn't care. Point was we needed to get out of there. "Alright, let's go." I said when we were both finished. We raced down the stairs and out the front door. The ground was cold under my bare feet and I wiggled my toes against it. The only car left in the lot was mine. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, my mom will be here around six thirty." I looked at my watch. 6:04. I looked back up at her and faltered for a minute.- "That's in nearly half an hour. Come one. It's the weekend, I'll take you home." She smiled and followed me to my car. Joan instructed me how to get to her house and when we finally arrived I slumped back in my seat. "You live here?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" I looked down the road.

"I live right down the street." I pointed a few houses down to the biggest house on our street. Her eyes widened a little. She started to get out of the car but I stopped her. "Hey, do you- uh- do you want a ride to school Monday? I don't normally ask but you are on the way... so," she looked at me and smiled.

"Yeah, that would actually be awesome. Here, give me your phone." I unlocked my phone and opened up a new contacts page for her and she quickly typed her name and number into my phone.

"See ya." I drove the rest of the way to my house and pulled into the garage. Moms car wasn't home but I wasn't surprised at all. I had finished my homework and decided to start setting up my ballet studio. On the main level we had a living room, kitchen, family room, dining room and breakfast nook. Mom had decided that the family room would be my ballet studio since it was the only room with hardwood floors. She had already ordered the mirrors and the Barr from my old studio was all in the basement. I looked at my phone again. 6:23. I unlocked it and scrolled through the contacts and stopped when I found his name.

I couldn't decided if I wanted to call or not but before I realized what I was doing I was hitting call and holding the phone up to my ear. "H-hello?"

"Stiles, hey. Uh, what are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing why?" He sounded confused and I don't blame him. I never texted back or answered when he called let alone called him out of the blue.

"I have this project I'm working on but I need help lifting some of the boxes and carrying some stuff up from the basement. You up for a little manual labor?" There was a huff of breath on the other line. Like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Uh, sure. Text me your address and I'll be over soon. I'm leaving now." I hung up and texted him my address and waited the five minutes it took him to drive to my house. When the bell to the front door rung I raced down the stairs and practically ripped the door off its hinges.

"That was fast." I stepped aside and made room for him to pass by me. He followed me into the kitchen where I grabbed a couple water bottles from the fridge and tossed one to him before walking into my soon-to-be ballet studio. "There's boxes in the basement. I can't carry it on my own but I figured that the two of us together should be able to. He didn't say anything but just looked me up and down. I had a Toy Story sweatshirt on with burgundy shorts and socks that had a cats head at the toes and the cat was wearing a beanie and glasses. Then his eyes stopped on my face.

"You wear glasses?" I chuckled and set my unopened water bottle down in the middle of the empty room. "So this is your place huh?" His voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls.

"You ready?" He nodded and followed me down to the basement. There wasn't much down there so it was easy to find the pile of stuff my mom had ordered. Stiles seemed kind of uncomfortable and I wasn't sure if it was because of me or the big house.

_You make me wanna die_

_I'll never be good enough_

_You make me wanna die_

_And everything you love_

"Nice ringtone." Stiles snorted. I ignored him but hid my smirk.

"Hey, mom." I talked to her for a minute about how she wasn't going to be back till after midnight and to just order out for dinner or something. "Oh hey, did you order all this stuff for the studio?" When I got the confirmation from her I turned and noticed something. "Is that- did you get paint too?" I smiled. She had gotten two gallons of pointe shoe rose pink paint. I looked closer. "Satin finish? I didn't even know they had that in paint." After a few more words my mom and I hung up and Stiles grabbed the bucket of paint and I grabbed the rollers and paint brushes and everything else we would need.

"So how do you know how to paint?" Stiles was rolling the roller on the wall like I had instructed while I used a paint brush to do the trim.

"Well, with my mom being the Dean of Medicine and making a shit ton of money my dad decided to do what he loved and became a painter. Taught me everything I know. I painted the last house all by myself." I dipped the tip of the brush in the plastic cup of paint in my hand and went back to the trim.

"So does he still paint?" I faltered in my movement. He seemed to notice and he stopped rolling too to watch me.

"He died. Six months ago."

"Is that why you moved here?"

"Yeah, mom was waiting for a hospital to need a Dean so when the one here opened up she jumped on it. She doesn't make as much but she still makes more than enough and it was far enough away that she could escape."

"It's not far enough for you?" I turned to him and climbed down from the latter, I was finished on this wall and started to move the latter to the opposite wall to do the same.- "You can't outrun death." I mumbled. I guess he decided to leave it at that because for the next two hours we painted in near silence but somewhere around the thirty minute mark I put on my Grease CD and sang along. Loudly. Half way through Grease Lightning I stopped singing because Stiles had stopped painting and was just watching me. I ignored him and I went back to singing along and then the funniest thing happened. He started singing. His voice was actually pretty good but the face that it was my Grease CD he was singing along with is what I found funny and I didn't even bother to hide my smile as we continued to sing.

"Are you almost done?" Stiles had been holding up the floor to ceiling mirrors and I was using the little things that they came with to secure them to the wall. They were little white things looked like an L-shaped nail. I had no idea what it was but that's what the instructions said to use.

"Yeah," I said, securing the last nail into the wall. He let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and plopped down onto the floor. "Hey," I crouched down next to him. "we aren't done." I pulled him to his feet and he started trudging behind me.

"What else is there to do? I thought you said all we were doing was painting and hanging the mirrors?"

"Relax. There's just a loveseat and the Barr to take down. I looked at my watch. 10:20. "Oh god. I'm sorry. I totally forgot about dinner. How's Chinese sound?"

"Sounds good." When we got to my room he just stood in the doorway as if he didn't know if he was allowed in but he was just taking in my room. I looked around and tried to see my room the way he was seeing it. From my bright white walls to my palace bed to my Grand Nior chandelier hanging above it to my LexMod loveseat to my printers keyhole desk. I had let my mom pick everything out when we moved which means that it was expensive and more than likely one of a kind. His eyes landed on the ballet posters I had hanging on the double doors leading to my closet.

I opened one of the drawers to my desk and fished around for the Chinese takeout menu my mom had given me a couple weeks ago and like all menus they get shoved into the deepest part of my desk. "Here," I said, handing him the menu. "Pick out whatever you want, it's on my mom tonight." I smiled, holding up my bank card that was connected to her bank account.

When the food arrived forty minutes later the studio was done. We brought the Barr up from the basement and the loveseat down from my room. So we were sitting in the middle of the room eating. Well, I was pretending to eat. Taking a bite here and there. I was channeling my inner Cassie from Skins and did a lot of talking about nothingness. Meaningless words flowed from my mouth as I pretended to eat and watched as Stiles finished his orange chicken, stabbing the last piece with a single chopstick. I grabbed his empty containers that littered the floor in front of him and grabbed my full container and made my way to the kitchen. I put my leftovers in the fridge and put the empty containers in the recycling.

"Ah, an Eco-friendly ballet dancer." I smiled.

"Yeah, it's a real issue. Recycling." Stiles snorted. I pulled out a sticky-note and scribbled 'For you' on it before sticking it on the leftovers for my mom. I pulled a can of coke zero out and popped the can open. "You're welcome to whatever you want." I said, before leaving the room. I grabbed my dance bag from the hall and went back to the studio. It smelled like Chinese food and paint and the smells were messing with my brain I swear.- By the time Stiles returned to the room he had a regular coke in his hand and I couldn't help the automatic scrunching of my nose in disgust. "I have an audition next week that I don't want to partake in that I don't have a choice on. Madam says that we aren't ready to audition for it let alone perform in front of people." I rambled as I tied on my pointe shoes. I picked up my can of soda and handed it to Stiles before walking over to my phone and turned on some classical music before plugging it into the speakers in the wall.

"You can stay if you want," I told him over the volume of the music while I walked to the center of the room. "My mom won't be home for a couple more hours but it's getting late so I understand if you need to go." I closed my eyes to 'find my center', as my old teacher would say, and took a deep breath. The thing about the audition is that she wanted us to dance with our souls, not the routine. But instead of dancing from my soul I decided to just do some basic class thing. From glissade to assemblé to jeté to temps levé and so on till I forgot about Stiles and the audition and it was just me and the music. Jumping and twirling and leaping. By the time I was done, I was breathless. I looked over to Stiles and smiled.

"That was amazing." I sat down and started to untie the ribbons securing the dance shoes around my feet. "It was like watching a story being told. A really sad story. But it was beautiful." I tossed my shoes aside.

"What the hell are you talking about Stilinski." I looked down at my feet and saw the tape and bandage Joan had put on my toes had crimson seeping through it. I pulled the tape off and watched as it bled. Ugh. Fantastic.

"You're bleeding." He slipped off the loveseat and scooted next to me.

"Yup." I pulled my bag closer to me and fumbled around in it till I found my bandaids and started wrapping them around my toe. "You see a beautiful ballerina and the ballerinas see ugly feet and pain."

"Harlow? Honey I'm home. Are you up?" I looked to Stiles before looking back at my watch. 12:30. I had danced for about an hour and a half and it only felt like minutes.

"Yeah, mom. In the studio." I spun around on my butt so that I was facing the opening that led from the room I was sitting in to the rest of the house. I loved the open floor plans of these big houses. It makes you feel so free.

I heard her rattling around in the kitchen before she appeared. "Oh, hi." She said, looking a little confused. "I didn't realize Harlow had anyone over. I'm Jaclyn." Stiles got to his feet and shook my moms hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." She looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.

"As much as I love to see you bringing friends over, it's late."

"Oh yeah, he helped me with the studio. And then I ordered dinner and we talked and I broke in the floor for a while. We just lost track of time. Sorry, won't happen again."

"Well, I'm going to bed. It was nice meeting you Stiles." And with that mom mom turned and left the room. Stiles let out a loud sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I should get going. It's late." I walked him to the door and we said our goodbyes and goodnights. I walked back into the studio and started cleaning up the trash from the bandaids and my pointe shoes. I stopped when my reflection caught my attention and I stood up straight and tightened my core to appear leaner. I let out a noise that was a cross between a sigh of disappointment and a grunt at my body. I couldn't look at myself longer than a few seconds before I has to look away with disgust. I wish I had claws to rip my fat off my bones.

I went into my bathroom and pulled my scale out of the cabinet where I kept it tucked away and stood on it. 106.4. I had only lost three pounds since moving to Beacon Hills. I swear this place was like a curse for me or something. I let out a frustrated grunt/yell but made sure I was quiet enough that I didn't disturb my mom. I angrily shoved the scale back into its little cubby hole and slammed the cabinet shut. I grabbed my ballet slippers and went back down stairs. I positioned myself at the Barr and began with Plié's and after a few hundred Plié's in various positions I pulled out my Pilates mat and began doing crunches. Around a hundred-thirty I lost count. When my watch read 2:58 I decided that it was about time that I go to bed. I flung my slippers to the middle of the room and turned off the lights before I made my way up the stairs.

When my cell phone dinged with a new text message. I found it odd that Joan had texted me so late... or... early?

_**[[Joan]]:** Hey, just went for a 'midnight' run and saw ur light still on. U up?_

I had texted her earlier in the night so that she would have my number and apparently 3:05 a.m. Is still am appropriate time for her to text.

_**[[Harlow]]:** Yeah, just did a workout too. Late night energy, or what?_

_**[[Joan]]:** Next time u can come on a run with me. 3 miles isn't much. Think u can handle?_

_**[[Harlow]]:** Of course I can handle. I put my studio together today... er... yesterday. Come over tomorrow and practice with me?_

_**[[Joan]]:** 2:30?_

_**[[Harlow]]:** Works for me._

I plugged my phone in and next it sitting on my desk before stripping and sliding into bed.

"Hey, Harlow." Joan greeted, sauntering into my room. Her small frame gliding through my room like a... well... Ballerina. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head tighter. "Come on," she ripped the covers from around my. "We have plans remember?" I grumbled incoherently and rubbed at my eyes and yawned.

 "What time is it?" Joan crawled over me to the other side of me bed and plopped down.- "Almost noon. I know we had plans for two-thirty but I got impatient. Your mom let me in." She plopped her head down on the pillow next to me. "Your room belongs to a princes. It's kinda weird. Like I don't want to mess anything up." I rolled over and put my head under my pillow.

"Ugh. Don't wanna get up." When I rolled over I ended up rolling towards Joan.

"Are you really one of those people that sleeps in a lacy bra and boy shorts?" I slightly moved the pillow from my head and peaked up at her. "Nice bones." I froze and held my breathable she ran a finger down my exposed spine. "Wanna see mine?" I propped myself up on my elbows and looked curiously at her as she got to her knees and pulled her shirt over her head. Every bone was visible, and every dip between the bones looked like they had been contoured, they were so deep. "Your secret. I can help." She slipped her shirt back over her head. "What do you mean help?" I was starting to panic a little. I sat up and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Now, now, Harlow. Not like that." My panic subsided a little as she continued. "You see, I had a mentor during my first couple years. She made me stronger, she taught me her ways and how to survive on my own."

"What are you saying?"

"Sometimes, to loose what you hate the most, you have to gain a friend." The thing I wanted to loose the most was the fat that disgust me every time I looked at myself. And the new friend, Joan, she was going to teach me how to do it.


	4. Lake House

Friday filled my stomach with anxiety.

Joan had been over early every day this week with a steaming cup of black coffee and diet pills or appetite suppressants. She would pull out an outfit for me while I sat and drank my coffee.

"So," Joan was currently going through my closet. "This Stiles guy. Are you going to let him be your friend?" she pulled a daisy circle skirt jumper out of my closet and threw it at me, it landed on my head. "I mean I've seen the way he watches you at school. Clearly he knows something." I sighed.

"I don't know." I pulled the skirt off my head. "Like I said the other day, I think he's onto me. And he helped me with the studio but... there's just something about his group of friends. Like they're hiding something. And I have a feeling that I don't want to know what it is." she just scoffed at my ridiculousness and threw a black a black cut-out crop top tank at my head again.

"I'm sure you're just over exaggerating... tights?" I pointed to my dresser.

"Top drawer." I took a sip of my coffee. "I'm telling you, Jo. Something's up with them." she pulled floral fish net tights and threw them at me but they landed short of the bed and landed on the floor a couple feet from the bed. She disappeared in the bottom of my closet an reappeared with my chunky, black, platform boots. Even though she was dressing me in my usual grunge with a touch of girly, her outfit was totally opposite of mine. She had on a pink lace cropped tube top, a soft pink blazer, a carven mini skirt and light pink suede pumps that tide the whole outfit together. 

"You're going to get a headache." she pointed out. "Stop worrying. I'm sure it's nothing. Now," she plopped down next to me, "have your breakfast and get ready for school." she held her hand out, palm up, with a couple different pills in the middle. I picked up the pills and popped them into my mouth, washing them down with the last of my coffee. 

"Did you do your weigh in this morning?" Jo asked, as we made our way to the car an hour later. We threw out ballet bags in the back along with some extra gym cloths for our run that would take place during lacrosse practice, during free period. 

"104." I winked at her. My goal weight was 100 and once I was there I planned to stay there.

"I told you I would get you out of your rut!" she exclaimed, I smiled back at her. Sometimes I feel like she gets envious of me for weighing less than she does even though she's several inches taller than me. 

She weighs in at 116. 

"I'll meet you in the girls locker room at free period." she said, before leaving me standing alone at my locker. I looked up just in time to see Stiles and his girlfriend, Malia, kissing before she walked towards me.

"So, Stiles thinks there's something wrong with you and seems to think that since I'm a girl that you'll tell me what that something is." I stood there for a minute and put on my best 'I don't know what you're talking about' face and stayed silent for a minute.

"If you lie to me," she said knowingly. "I'll know." her face was so serious that she kinda scared me. I opened my mouth to speak but was thankfully, literally, saved by the bell. 

"I've got to get to class." I excused myself, before making a quick exit and going to my class.

Stiles P.O.V.

During our free period Scott and I were on the lacrosse field getting ready for practice when I noticed Harlow and her friend were getting ready for their run. Every day during practice they would do laps around the field. I watched as they stretched and got ready for their run.

"Scott, hey, man. What are they saying?" he tilted his head towards the girls and listened carefully for a few seconds, before giving me a strange look.

"They're talking about you and Malia." there was another pause before he continued. "She thinks you're being too nosed and that you need to lay off. She said 'I don't take a big interest in his personal life, so why is he bugging me?'." I knew Scott was waiting for an explanation of what they were talking about. I had only briefly mentioned in passing about my concern of her eating disorder and never brought it up again.

"I can't lay off, she's going to kill herself." I looked back at Harlow. Her friend held out a Baggie with half an orange in it and I couldn't help but wonder if that would be all she eats today. I had noticed in class earlier that he had been looking thinner than she already had been when she started at our school a couple months ago. Instead of eating the oranges they she put it in her bag. They did a few more stretches before taking off at a steady pace around the field.

"McCall! Stilinski! Get your asses on the field!" I followed Scott to the back of the drills line and waited for my turn.

"Stiles," Scott started hesitantly. "maybe right now isn't the best time to be meddling in someone else's personal like." he gestured to Liam. "I think our hands are a little full at the minute. Don't you?"

"Do you think he's going to tell anyone? I mean the whole, 'we're brothers now' and 'the bite is a gift' thing kinda freaked him out. Hell, it freaked me out and I've know you since we were in diapers." I watched as Liam ran around the field and participated in the drill. "I still say we chloroform the little bastard. Forget the party tonight." But Scott just shook his head and I watched as the girls started their second lap around the field.

Harlow's P.O.V. 

"Joan... Jo... I can't..." I gasped out, struggling for breath as we finished our lap. I laid down in the grass and rolled over onto my back. Joan plopped down next to my head and held out my water for me.

"The bells going to ring soon. We need to go get changed." she hauled me up to my feet and practically pushed me in the direction of the school. I quickly changed and ate my half of the orange and dragged myself to the rest of my classes before heading off to ballet with Joan. When we got there we were informed that the list for Clara would be up on the studios website.

"So?" I waited impatiently while I unlocked my car later that night. "Who'd we get?" I leaned against the top of my car and waited. Joan was looking at the list on her phone. She made a face before looking at me. "That bad?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You got Clara!" she started jumping up and down in excitement. I was so surprised that I didn't even say anything. "This," she pointed to her phone. "calls for a celebration."

"You telling my you know of a party tonight and you didn't tell me?" I raised my eyebrows at her. She knew how much I liked to party.

"Not yet, but I'll find one." She winked at me smugly before getting into the passenger seat of my car. An hour later she came sauntering over to my bed and plopped down with a big smile on her face.

"Found a party?" I assumed, lifting my head off my bed. The workouts Joan had us doing left me sore and achy all the time now. Ballet didn't help any.

"Yup. You're friends with Lydia Martin, right?"

"Well," I sat up and looked over at her, thinking. "Stiles so friends with her, and I'm sorta friends with Stiles... I guess that makes me her friend. Kinda. Why?"

"Because," she crawled even closer to me. "there's a party at her lake house tonight. You ready?" I looked down at my outfit and decided that we couldn't go to the party dressed in leotards and tights so I quickly threw on a sleeveless t-shirt that covered my butt and decided to skip pants and just go for some floral lace tights and a red lacy bra and boots that came just under my knees. Jo wore my black spaghetti strap dress with my floral jacket and red pumps that match my bra.

Twenty minutes later we were pulling up into the drive of Lydia Martins lake house and I parked my car in the grass. When I looked around at the group of people gathering I groaned and turned to Joan. "Are we at a... freshman party?" 

"I never specified what kind of party it is. Besides, there's alcohol. So does it really matter?"

"I guess not." I shrugged and made my way into the lake house and was involved into a swarm of sweaty drunk freshman and was struggling to make it to the kitchen where a keg was being delivered. Calories from alcohol don't count, I told myself in a chant.

"Look," Joan pointed over my shoulder. "alcohol." She grabbed a couple red solo cups and filled them up with beer holding it out for me to take but when I started to reach from it she pulled it back. "How much you drink tonight will determine how much you can eat for the rest of the week and how much you workout. You understand?"

"Got it." I said, grabbing the cup from her hand before she could deny me the alcohol. I downed half the cup. Somewhere around drink number two(... or was it three) Joan took off up the stairs with some freshman boy I had never seen before. Unfortunately She's kinda a south drunk. And because she's underweight she kinda a lightweight. However, on the bright side of her slutting it up with some random guy is that I can lie about the number of drinks I inhale. 

Halfway through my fourth drink when my cup was half empty, social anxiety started to set in and I decided that I needed to get the hell out of the house. I weaved through the crowded house of freshman till I was standing outside. I walked around to the back of the house to find it less crowded than the front. I stood there for a minute before I saw a figure running through the woods at a crazy speed.

And of course, in my drunken state I decided that I would try my hand at following whoever it was. "Liam! Liam wait!" I was too far gone in my drunkness to recognize Scott's freaked out voice cutting through the darkness of the woods. By the time I realized that it was Scott's voice calling out I was being tackled to the ground by who I assumed was the Liam kid that he was looking for.

Liam used his body to press me into the earth beneath us as he bared his fangs and snapped at me. His gold eyes cut through the darkness. I gasped at his changed form and I froze. He snarled at me and snapped a few more times so I did the only thing I could think of.

"Scott! Scott help!" I heard the sound of feet slapping against the ground. The sound getting louder as he got closer.

"Harlow!" he called back. Liam's head snapped up at the sound of Scott's voice before scrambling off of me and scurrying away from me. Scott crouched down where I was still laying on the ground, propped up on my elbows. "Are you okay?" He asked, frantically. I tried to speak nut I just ended up stumbling over my worlds. "Harlow!" he screamed in my face. "Are you hurt?" I shook my head to let him know that no, I wasn't hurt.

"I'm fine. Go." I ushered him in the direction the Liam had taken off in. Knowing that something was clearly horribly wrong. I couldn't help but think about the conversation I had with Joan over coffee this morning. 

"I don't know." I pulled the skirt off my head. "Like I said the other day, I think he's onto me. And he helped me with the studio but... There's just something about his group of friends. Like they're hiding something. And I have a feeling that I don't want to know what it is."

SCOTT'S P.O.V.

As much as I didn't want to leave a totally freaked out Harlow alone in the woods on the night of the full moon but I didn't see much of a choice so I took off in the direction that I saw Liam go and I followed his scent. "What did you do to me!?" Liam screamed at me.

"Liam..."

"This is your fault. It's all your fault! This is your fault!" he repeated. It reminded my of the car he ruined and carved 'this is your fault' into the side of it. I suddenly heard the very distinctive whooshing sound of a arrow slicing through the air. A bright light erupted from the flash bolt arrow.

Liam cried out and shielded his eyes before taking off again. I looked up I'm the direction the arrow had come from and was relieved with what, or rather, who. I saw. "How'd you know?" I asked Mr. argent who was standing on higher ground than I. 

"I got your text." he looked tired. I so desperately wanted to ask how he was doing but that would have to wait. "There's a clearing just north of here. All you have to do is corral him there. The rest is taken care of."

"What are you going to do to him?" he had started to turn away from me but paused.

"He's your Beta, Scott. The question is, what are you going to do?"

"He won't listen to me." I told him honestly.

"He will if you start using your own words." with that piece of advice Argent shooed me away.

HARLOW'S P.O.V.

It took me a couple minutes of freaking out while still on the ground before I could stifle my fear a little and shakily get to my feet. I grabbed a tree nearby to steady myself. I used a dirty hand to push my hair out of my face. What the hell just happened?

After the whole thing with Liam I sobered up pretty quickly and decided that it as about time to drag Jo away from what ever dude she banged tonight and get us both home. I practically had to drag her into my house and dropped her onto my bed. I kicked off my boots and quickly exchanged my dirty cloths for one of my dad's old tee shirts and crawled up into bed behind her, wrapping my arms around her acting as the big spoon.

That night I dreamt of werewolves.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will pick back up and continue to follow the series.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what?

"What do I me- What? You," Stiles gestured to me, "ballerina barbie watches MMA fights?" I stared at him blankly.

"Um... yes? Stereotypical, much, Stiles?" he grabbed his red gingerbread game piece and moved it. He shrugged. "Maybe we should be talking about something else." he looked up from the board game to me.

"Uhhh, no?" I moved my yellow guy.

"I think we should talk about the fact that you showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, last night, and why we are playing Candyland on a Saturday instead of being out with our friends." he picked up a card and moved two green spaces.

"You want me to talk about Malia." he huffed.

"No, you want to talk about Malia. I want to play Candyland." I picked up a card and moved one red space.

"But you just said-" I cut him off, pulling my attention from the game.

"Look, if you wanted to play video games and ignore the fact the Malia broke up with you then you would have gone to Scott last night. Scott, he would honor the bro code, no talk of ex girlfriends, no emotions. But you came here. You came to me, a girl, so that I wouldn't honor any code and so you could talk about it. I left it alone last nigh and didn't ask, but this is our fourth game of Candyland. So talk."

"She's mad." he mumbled, dropping his chin to his chest. "Did you ever hear any of us talking about The List?" he looked back up at me, game forgotten.

"That's what Malia was asking about, how much everyone was worth?" he nodded.

"Yeah, we call it the Deadpool. All the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills is listed on there, along with how much they're worth. Malia... Malia Tate... it's uhh, it's not her real name. She was adopted, she didn't know. The list, the Deadpool, it had her real last name on it. I was supposed to tell her."

"Well," I said after a minute. "What's her real last name?"

"Hale." he picked up his red man and tossed it back down on the board. "She's mad because after all the interaction we had with the Hale's, after all this time, she's just finding out that we've all been lying to her."

"Hale... we were in the Hale vault, yesterday, right?" he stood up from his chair at the table and started pacing around.

"Yeah. Peter, her dad, bit Scott, Derek is her cousin, sophomore year we helped Derek kill his uncle. Lydia brought him back to life, we still aren't sure how that happened." he said, after looking at my confused face. "Derek tried to teach Scott how to control himself, but I taught him more," he smirked. "uhh, now we pretty much just stick together in a weird sort of pack and fight off whatever goes bump in the night." I sat there, just staring at him. I blinked several times. "That's the summary. Kinda."

"Well," I started, calmly. "HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT! What the hell is wrong with this town?!" he jumped at my outburst and looked at me with a shocked expression before breaking into a grin and chuckling.

"Alright," he picked up his cup and took a sip. "Your turn."

"My turn, what?"

"Don't play innocent, 'here's a secret. I'm not scared to die'. What the hell is that about?" I turned my attention back to the game.

"Who's turn is it?" I tried.

"Harlow I-"

"I wouldn't mind," he looked at me confused. "and I know, that if you really thought about it, that you wouldn't either."

"Har, what are you talking about?" I crossed my arms on the table and looked down. 

"Seeing my dad. Seeing your mom. I wouldn't mind, would you?" he looked thoughtful for a minute before replying.

"I couldn't do that to my dad. I couldn't leave him alone. Someday... someday I'll see her again. Be it of old age or by the hands of some big baddie. But I can wait."

"Well, if something wants to take me out, I'm not going to stop them." he nodded. "Now, who's turn is it?" 

 

"I hit my target weight." was the first thing Joan said to me when I picked her up for school on Monday.

"That's fantastic!" I leaned over the gear shift in my car and hugged her. The bones on her back dug into my wrists. I was jealous. 

"How close are you?" I ignored her.

"Hey, do you wanna grab some coffee?" I didn't wait for her answer before I went to the closest cafe. I got a soy latte to go. We had just gotten into the car when my phone started to ring. "Hello?" I answered, without checking the caller I.D.

"Hey, are you at school yet?" Stiles asked, from the other side of the line.

"Not yet, Joan and I stopped to get coffee. Why what's up?"

"My Jeep wont start, I think I need a new starter."

"Do you need a ride?" Joan made an annoyed huff from the passenger seat. I ignored her. 

"Please?" I smirked.

"Of corse. But can you send me your address?" we said our 'see you soon's' and hung up.

"What are you doing?" came from the passenger seat.

"What?"

"'What?' you didn't even ask if you could pick him up. You didn't even check to see if it was okay with me!" I looked at her, confused.

"Umm, since when do I have to ask permission from you to drive one of my friends to school?"

"We are a team, Harlow! You can't just be making these kinds of decisions!" I turned onto Stiles' street.

"What decisions, Joan?" she scoffed at me.

"Friends, Har, friends. Friends will ruin everything for us!" it was my turn to scoff and I turned away from her and laid on the car horn. A startled Stiles swung the door open and looked at me confused. He opened the door and got in just in time to hear me say,

"Drop it, Jo. This is my choice. This is the only part of my life that I have the least bit of control over. So, shut up." the tension in the car was so thick that it felt muddy. I looked at Stiles through the rear view mirror and shrugged. When we got to school, Joan walked off without so much as a grunt in my direction.

"Should I even ask about that?" Stiles asked as we made our way to our shared class. 

"That, was the end of a very wonderful friendship." I muttered before walking ahead of him and sitting in my usual seat. 

"But... why?"

"Because I chose you."


	6. Chaper 6

"Stiles?" I asked, making my way into the morgue. "What the hell?" I looked to Scotts body. Which was just laying there. "Oh my God, Scott!" I didn't move. I just stood still till Kira's mom reached out for Scott's mom's hand.

"Give me your hand." she placed her hand over Scotts heart and everyone was silent. Waiting. 

"Is that enough to keep him alive?" Melissa asked.

"Wait! He's alive!?" I came closer till I was right next to everyone else.

"Yeah," Stiles turned to me. "Do you remember the other night, I told you about the Benefactor and the Deadpool?" everyone in the room gave Stiles' looks like he was compromising a mission.

"Yeah, the Deadpool... uh, someones paying assassins to kill all the supernaturals, right?" Stiles pointed at me with both hands.

"Yes, exactly! And this," he waved a hand over Scotts body, "this is our plan to catch whoever is behind all this."

"So... he's not really dead?.."

"No, he's not." relief flooded through me and I let out a heavy breath.

"Oh thank God." I looked back to Scott. "So, how much time do we have?" everyone looked at their watches and phones.

"About..."

"Forty- five minutes." finished Ms. Yukimura.

"What happens after that?" Melissa asked, looking around the room at different faces for answers. Ms. Yukimura looked at everyone too.

"No one told her!?" Melissa and I met each other's eyes.

"Tell her what?" we waited...

"He dies." she said coldly. The look on Melissa's face could breath a thousand hearts.

"Alright," I started, grabbing Melissa's hand and leading her towards the door. "I think we need some air." We walked out and all the way to one of the waiting rooms. "You doing okay?" I asked after a few minutes.

"I don't know how much more of this I can handle. Let's not talk about it. Let's talk about you." she nudged my knee with hers.

"Me?" I fidgeted.

"Yeah, how's your friend, Joan?" I sighed out and scratched my eyebrow.

"We aren't speaking right now." I mumbled. That caught her attention and she turned fully towards me.

"What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" she used her mom voice. From volunteering at the hospital, Melissa and I have become extremely close. I was around her more than I was my own mom.

"I chose Stiles and the pack over her. She wan't thrilled about that and..." I made a gesture with my hands. I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

"Can I give you some motherly advice?"

"Always, momma McCall." she took my hand in hers and placed them on her lap.

"People aren't meant to live without human contact. If she was so greedy of your companionship that you weren't allowed to have other friends then.., she's not a real friend. But that group down in the morgue, they'll never leave you. They will literally risk their lives for yours. Would Joan do that?"

"So, what..." I looked up at her. "am I just supposed to forget about her?"

"Oh, no. Dear, you can't forget about the people you care about. But you can let them go." I scooted closer to her and leaned into her, she wrapped her arms around me.

"I wish my mom was as insightful as you are." I felt her smile against the top of my head. "I wish you were my mom." I said quietly, hoping that she didn't her me. She pulled away from me and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Your mother is a wonderful person. She's been through a lot, you both have. And you need each other. You just need to realize how much she loves you." I swallowed and we stayed quiet for a few moments.

"Why am I even here?" Mel shrugged.

"They keep the people most important to them close. Listen, I have to get back to the kids. Why don't you call it a day and head home." I looked at her and sighed, nodding my head.

"Call me if you need me?" 

"Will do kiddo." we stood and she gave me a tight hug. "Now, go home."

"I'm going, tell them I'll see them at school tomorrow." she nodded and I walked off, into the parking garage and got into my car.

On Monday, the school was buzzing. I tried to ignore it but eyes followed me everywhere I went. I kept my head down and made my way to my locker. When I got there I started shoving random books into it and pulling out the textbook I needed for my first class. When I walked into class I saw the Pack gathered together whispering. Scotts head shot up to look at me and everyone else followed. There was this look that Stiles was giving me and I couldn't place it. Sorrow? Grief? Pain? It didn't matter as I made my way over and sat on top of my desk.

"What's up?" Stiles stepped forward and wrapped me up in his arms, rocking us slightly. I looked over to everyone else, confused, and they all looked away and averted their eyes. 

"I'm so sorry, Har." he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry." I pulled away from him and grabbed his shoulders.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"Har," Scott stepped up. "No ones told you?"

"Told me what? What's going on?" I let Stiles go and looked at everyone. I was getting annoyed. 

"Har," Stiles started, "Joan killed herself last night." My world stopped and I started to scoot away from them. When I slid off the desk I grabbed my bag and made my way to leave school. I was just walking out of the front doors when the bell rang. I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going but I ended up sitting in my car in front of Joan's house. I sat there for nearly an hour before I got up enough strength to go and knock on the door.

"Harlow," Joan's mom, Jackie, greeted with smudged mascara and fresh tears running down her face. "Oh Harlow. I'm so grateful you came." she wrapped me up in a hug while pulling me into her house at the same time. She cried into my hair and weighed me down. Weights were attached to her hands and we sank into the woodwork with the bugs and just kept sinking till we hit hell. When I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand there with her weighing me down, her husband, Dave, came and pulled her off of me.

"Harlow, Joan left you something." Dave handed me a letter in a closed envelop and I held onto it, not yet opening it. We sat together and drank tea, not speaking. I left half an hour later. I sat in my car in my driveway, the weight of the letter sitting heavy in my hands.

 

'Harlow,  
I know we left things kind of rocky. I'm not sure who's to blame at this point. But I need you to know that I loved you like you were a part of me. I didn't stay mad at you for longer than a few hours, I forgave you for picking Stiles and his friends over me. We need people to survive. And clearly you need them.  
But you don't need me. That much is clear. So I'm going to make this an easy choice for you and say goodbye. You don't need me anymore, no one needs me anymore.

Love, Joan.'


End file.
